


Company Ink

by faultyepiglottis



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:36:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faultyepiglottis/pseuds/faultyepiglottis
Summary: AU. Andy, recently abandoned by her boyfriend Nate, finally lands a job in NYC and goes out to celebrate with friends. She ends up in the bed of a mysterious older woman who makes anonymity a rule of engagement. When she arrives for her first day as second assistant to Miranda Priestly, editor-in-chief of Runway, she realizes that the anonymity the older woman demanded would be short-lived, as they were now face-to-face as boss & employee.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Please excuse any tense issues, errant commas, and my rampant misuse/overuse of ellipses. No beta, so all mistakes are mine. The rating will increase after the first chapter or two.

After months of struggling to find a job as a journalist, Andy had resigned herself to applying for other jobs within the publishing industry. She’d landed several interviews and over the course of two weeks had been to three. Each was the same old song and dance; either she was overqualified, unqualified, or just simply didn’t know the right people to land the job. Her final interview of the week was for an assistant position at a Auto Universe, a monthly magazine Andy had only ever noticed in the specialty section at airport newsstands. She’d stopped by a big box bookstore a few days before her scheduled meeting hoping to find a copy, and was lucky to find three back issues alongside the most current offering. She thumbed through them and wasn’t terribly impressed. Ever the eternal optimist, she tried to find the positive in the possibility of working for a magazine whose largest non-car related advertiser appeared to be Axe grooming products, maker of the dude-centric body spray. It would be a paying job she’d reminded herself.

The interview itself had been a mixed bag. On one hand it was like any other large corporate interview—a huge HR department HRing for the many disparate entities also housed under the Elias-Clarke umbrella. On the other hand, it was nothing like any interview she’d ever had.

*****

When she arrived at the building at 9AM Wednesday morning, she checked in with security who directed her to the third floor which housed the majority of the HR department for the conglomerate. As she moved towards the elevators, she was nearly knocked down by a slim redhead running in four inch stilettos and mumbling under her breath.

“Out of my way you cow!” The redhead shouted as she slammed a shoulder into Andy and then grumbled under her breath “...going to raise hell... understand how it works...my job twice as hard...”

 _Cow?! What the hell? Who does she think she is?_ Andy thought, as she struggled to remain upright. By the time she thought to defend herself the redhead had already blown past her and into an open elevator.

Andy got to the lift just as the doors started to close. The woman shot her the iciest don’t-even-think-about-it glare Andy’d ever seen.

“Take the stairs.” The British woman spat. “It certainly looks like you could use the exercise.” The door closed and Andy’s mouth gaped open.

 _Wow. I’m so glad I’m not...that...or her… or whatever she was—moody, bitchy, mean, having an awful day..._ Andy thought, and pressed the button to call another lift. No way was she taking the stairs in the shoes she was wearing even if they were only kitten heel height. _I need to focus on this. I can’t let her bad day ruin mine._ She took a deep breath and shook off the interaction.

When the doors opened to the third floor, she found herself in front of a receptionist who, in equal parts disinterested and rude, grunted an acknowledgement of her presence before taking her name and telling her to have a seat. _Friendly face out front I see._ She chuckled to herself.

She looked around the space. The decor was nice enough, with clean, modern lines, though she thought it a bit sterile. At 9:15 sharp, a young, well-dressed woman trotted out to greet her. She introduced herself as Tamara, and confirmed she’d be interviewing her for the job at Auto Universe.

They walked through a set a double doors then wound around through a series of hallways, passing small offices occupied by similarly dressed women and men.

As they passed by one office, the woman inside called out, “Hey Tamara? You’ll never guess what happened this time.”

“Oh god. Already Steph? The girl started less than an hour ago! What reason did the ol’ Dragon Lady give you this time?” Tamara inquired, stepping just inside the doorway.

“Apparently ‘her very presence is underwhelming and her performance is abysmal. She cannot complete even the most basic of tasks in a precise, not to mention timely manner.” Steph said with dripping sarcasm.

“Ok, so you mean she didn’t get her ‘center of the sun hot’ coffee in 8 minutes flat? She must’ve taken the elevator down instead of the stairs. Most of ‘em don’t realize the stairs are much faster even though it’s 17 floors.”

Andy watched the conversation unfold, not sure what else to do with herself.

“Yeah maybe we should start warning them before we send them up there. You know, give them a bit of an edge?” Steph suggested, eyebrows raised.

“Nuh uh, no way. She would 100% see right through that. She’d know someone intervened and then it would be one of us on the chopping block.” Tamara stated. “Besides, it’s so obviously a test that goes way beyond just getting her coffee order right. I actually think she should weed out the weak early on, she just doesn’t have to be such a raging bi- … jerk about it.”

“Yeah yeah, it just makes our jobs so much harder. I mean seriously, this is number 6 this month! I hardly have a pool to choose from, and at this rate there will be absolutely no one qualified within the tristate area before the year is out,” grumbled Steph, the frustration clear in her voice.

“We just gotta keep throwin’ stuff at her until something sticks. It will eventually. Promise.” She flashed a smile to Steph’s rolling eyes. Tamara backed out of the office and led Andy into an identical space down the hall.

“Sorry about that detour. We’ve been trying to find a suitable second assistant for a very difficult executive for ages. I really thought we’d found a survivor this time… anyway, tell me about yourself.” Tamara began as she pulled a folder out of a drawer and flipped to Andy’s resume. “I see you tick all the right boxes for this job.”

“Well you can see that I graduated summa cum laude from Northwestern University with my degree in journalism. I was the Editor in Chief of the newspaper there for two years.” Andy pointed out.

“Yes I can see that, but tell me something not on these pages. I can tell you’re a very good writer from these samples you attached. What makes you think your skills will transfer well into an assistant role when you’re used to being the boss?”

“Well, to be honest I started applying for assistant jobs because I couldn’t find work as a journalist. My passion is writing—getting the story and getting it right the first time. When I was editor in chief I was forced to make some tough decisions. One in particular brought not only journalistic ethics into question, but my personal ethics too. I won’t rehash it here, but suffice to say not everyone agreed with me.” Andy said, reflecting on that experience.

“Do you regret that decision then?” Tamara interrupted. It was clear whatever Andy was referring to had really affected her.

“Not at all. I still stand by it with a clear conscience. I’m not entirely sure how that would apply directly to this job. There are the more obvious parallels like typing, attention to detail, organizing deadlines, and maintaining interpersonal relationships that I think will translate more directly. I’m also great under pressure and in high stress environments, which might apply unless I’m wrong about the pace of Auto Universe.” Andy said as she tapped her index finger on her lips in thought.

“Well… I wouldn’t say Auto Universe is the most bustling environment we have here at Elias-Clarke. It is staffed with 85% men though.” Tamara mused.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh. Nothing. Sorry was just thinking about the vibe on that floor versus the Runway magazine floors where it’s the opposite demographic. About 80% women and 20% men and of the men…let’s say a lot of them are as feminine as the women. It can really change the dynamic of a place.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. Well I’ve never had an issue with getting along with anyone so I’m not sure it makes a difference to me.” She gave her a wide smile and a confident nod.

“That’s great.” Tamara chuckled, “Please, go on.”

Andy fought the urge to get up and pace. It wasn’t about nerves. She always did her best brainstorming when she walked back and forth around a room, something about always keeping moving allowed her mind to focus on its task. “I also think being able to see the bigger picture, or um, the ability to zoom both in and out on a situation would be important too. Staying one step ahead of everything and anticipating the needs of those around you. See as editor in chief I felt that yes, I was the final arbiter in the newsroom, but I also had a duty to my readers, my writers, and other staff to be the best, to weather any storm, and to fight for and with them. To see what was coming and remember what had been. I think I honed those skills over time without even realizing it.”

“So you’re saying…?”

“I’m saying that yes, maybe not being the boss would be an adjustment for me. I doubt it, but who knows. What I do think is that I would be an extension of the person in charge. I’d be acting on their behalf, not only making their work-life run smoothly, but also ensuring that decisions can be made with every bit of information needed. What’s that they say? ‘Behind every great boss there’s a great assistant.’ So terribly cliche, but there’s a reason for that.”

 _She makes some good points, although it seems a shame that someone so capable should be stuck in a job at a d-tier magazine like Auto Universe._ Tamara thought.

“You know Andy, I really like what you’ve said. I have to say though that you seem extremely overqualified for this job.” When Tamara stood up, Andy’s shoulders slumped and her face fell in disappointment. She made to join Tamara in standing. “No no please sit. Give me a minute to check something?” Tamara gestured with her hand to Andy’s chair, and Andy nodded then sat back down unsure of what to think.

She left the room and Andy sat back, deflated. _God how did I manage to fuck this up? Easy. I took a simple question and made it complicated per usual. I should have just listed generic qualities and moved on._ Andy rolled her eyes at herself. She needed this job and she needed the money last week. At that moment she decided she wasn’t above begging.

When Tamara returned Andy immediately pounced. “Please don’t discount me from this job Tamara. I might be overqualified, but I think I could be excellent at it. I’d like to gain insight and experience at a magazine to broaden my—”

Tamara held up her hand signaling for Andy to stop talking. “Hold on now Andy. I’m not saying no. I went to check with Steph about a job that just opened up this morning.”

Andy raised her eyebrows and thought back to the discussion she overheard earlier.

Tamara continued, “It is a Second Assistant job at Runway magazine. You heard us discussing it earlier? Now I’ll be honest here, the salary is lower since it’s a second assistant position—“

Andy’s sharp intake of breath indicated her displeasure.

“—but I think it would be a better place to cut your teeth. It’s evident you’d just be biding your time at Auto Universe, but at Runway if you lasted a year there, you could go anywhere you want with the recommendation of your boss. Think The New York Times, Harper’s, Vanity Fair.”

Andy’s eyes widened with intrigue. “Wow. That just seems too good to be true. What’s the catch other than the lower pay?”

“Well that’s sort of the thing.” Tamara hesitated. “You’d be working directly for Miranda Priestly.” She broke eye contact and picked some invisible lint off her shirt.

Andy’s face remained blank as she waited for Tamara to get to the horrifying part. She had no idea who Miranda Priestly was, nor did she know much about Runway beyond the fact that it was a fashion magazine. She noted the hesitance in Tamara’s demeanor, and saw that she was waiting for Andy’s reaction.

“And that’s a problem because…?”

Tamara looked at her like she had sprouted a third arm. “Oh wow. You don’t know who she is do you? The Snow Queen? The Devil in Prada? The Dragon Lady? I’m sitting with the only person in the developed world who has no clue who Miranda Priestly is.” She shook her head and chuckled. ”Actually that might be for the best, going in with an open mind.”

Andy furrowed her brow, thinking that she should maybe look into this person before committing to anything based on those nicknames alone.

Tamara seemed to read her mind and added, “Just don’t Google her and give this a try. Why don’t we say this. You can start tomorrow at Runway. If for some reason it doesn’t work out, we can talk about you moving over to Auto Universe in a couple weeks. I couldn’t have you start there for two weeks even if you turned the Runway gig down.”

“Well that seems like an offer I can’t refuse.”

“So don’t. Let’s get your on-boarding paperwork filled out so you can hit the ground running tomorrow. Miranda’s first assistant will have to informally interview you of course, but she’s so desperate to hire someone since she’s been doing both jobs on and off that I don’t think she will have an issue with you.”

While Andy filled out her forms, Tamara gave Steph the go ahead to call Miranda’s first assistant, Emily, and tell her to expect Andy at 8AM tomorrow. In turn, Emily told her to have Andy show up at 10AM instead. Miranda would be out of the office by then, plus she wanted to have the morning routine go off without a hitch, especially after this morning’s hiccup. It would also give her a chance to vet Andy before Miranda saw her. If she was unacceptable, she could just send her away and Miranda would be none the wiser.

“It won’t matter tomorrow, but keep in mind everything you heard this morning about coffee. Just remember not to let on you’ve been warned.” Tamara winked as she walked Andy out the double doors to the elevator. “So 10AM. Emily will meet you in the lobby to get your security pass set up. Don’t be late. And uh, don’t wear that outfit or anything like it. Put something on you can be proud of please. I say that for your own good.”

 _What’s wrong with this outfit?_ Andy thought. She looked down at her skirt and cable knit sweater as the elevator descended. _I guess the skirt is a bit shapeless and the sweater is a bit too big… but what I wear doesn’t reflect on the quality of my work._ She hmphed to herself.

The elevator opened to the lobby and just like that Andy had a new job. A poorly paying one at a fashion magazine of all places, but a job nonetheless. Plus it held the promise of being a step up and into her dream job. _I can stick it out for a year, right?_


	2. Chapter 2

Andy left the Elias-Clarke building with a spring in her step and immediately texted her best friends Lily and Doug. This called for a celebration. It was the first good thing to happen to her since she moved to NYC six months ago with her now ex-boyfriend Nate.

Things had gotten progressively tense between her and Nate over the last year. Moving to New York together acted as a temporary salve for their issues, but things quickly devolved again once they settled into their new, barely-affordable-but-hardly-livable apartment. The normally sweet, considerate guy that she had grown to love had become someone she didn’t recognize. His temper was unbearable. At first she chalked it up his lack of sleep from working such grueling hours at the restaurant, but once he got promoted his schedule was much more reasonable and was no longer an excuse.

It wasn’t just that he was short with her now and again. He lashed out about every little thing she did and even things beyond her control. His water wasn’t hot enough in the shower that morning. Her fault. He didn’t like the way she folded his t-shirts all of a sudden. Her fault. He couldn’t find that one CD he was positive he bought when he was 15 and of course had kept after moving no less than 5 times since then. Her fault. Black olives on his delivery pizza? Her fault. He yelled at her more than he spoke to her, and he _never_ apologized. She couldn’t remember the last time they had sex. Heck, she couldn’t remember the last time they shared a kiss that wasn’t borne out of habit.

When he started “staying at work” later and later she buried her head in the sand for a few weeks before confronting him. He flat out admitted that he was sleeping with a coworker and that he was much happier around her than Andy. She knew they weren’t in a good place after that conversation, but she didn’t think he would just pack up and leave without a word. That’s exactly what happened though, the day after their “talk.” She came home from running errands and venting to Lily over a quick lunch near her gallery to a half empty, upturned apartment. No note, no rent, no nothing. He did leave the front door wide open though. Motherfucker.

*****

  
After making plans with her friends for the evening, Andy headed home and started sorting through her belongings, finding things she could try to sell for a bit of cash. Rent was due soon and her savings was almost tapped out. Now that she’d secured a job, she could start thinking about the long term (un)affordability of her apartment and making a plan on how to survive on the paltry salary she’d be earning.

She showered and changed into an outfit Doug had helped her pick out to celebrate her and Nate’s anniversary next month. In her attempt to fix things with him, she’d decided to try and “sex it up” a bit. No use in wasting it. The dress hugged her curves like a glove and the hem hit more than a few inches above her knees. Normally it would have made her uncomfortable, both emotionally and physically, but Doug had assured her she looked amazing. She took one last look in the mirror before heading out to meet them.

The clientele at the bar catered to the LGBTQ crowd on Wednesdays, though it usually turned out to be a pretty mixed offering. The drinks were strong, and most importantly, cheap. Doug had stumbled upon it with one of his old flames, and it had been the group’s regular haunt ever since. It was happy hour and a crowd hadn’t yet formed, so she was immediately able to spot Doug and Lily at a hightop across the small dance floor. Doug had a purple drink in his hand and Lily had her usual pint in front of her. The normally reserved Doug was gesturing wildly with his hands, sloshing the drink all over the place, a sure sign that he was well on his way to drunk. They hadn’t noticed her arrive so she decided to swing by the bar to grab a drink to catch up with them.

“What can I get ya?” The bartender winked as she slid over to Andy. She was tall, dark, and handsome, clad in a tight fitting leather vest and matching pants.

“Lemme get three shots of tequila and a gin and tonic.” Andy smiled, deciding in the moment that she deserved to cut loose a bit. Since it was still early she could make it to bed at a decent hour.

As the bartender turned to fix her drinks, Andy raked her eyes up and down the woman, taking in her fit figure. This “noticing women” thing had been happening more and more since Nate left her. She’d never been with a woman before, but then again, she hadn’t ever really thought about it. Her and Nate had been together almost her entire dating-age life, so she was open to exploring something new to figure out what she liked.

“She’s taken, believe me I’ve tried. Something about commitment,” husked a voice from down the bar. The voice trickled down Andy’s spine and made her shiver imperceptibly.

She turned to face the woman, not sure what to expect. Her breath caught and her pulse quickened as she digested the sight before her, slightly slack jawed. Now _this_ was a woman. Older and absolutely exquisite. Her silver-white hair was perfectly coiffed and while she didn’t look old enough to have it, she looked incredible with it. Her eyes were the bluest of blues, piercing and unrelenting, her skin, smooth like porcelain of the finest quality, and the slight crookedness of her patrician nose brought a beauty to her face that otherwise could not have existed. Wabi-sabi. _Perfection in imperfection._

The older woman sat with her legs crossed, sipping regally on something brown. Truthfully, she stuck out like sore thumb in this place. How anyone would have refused her Andy couldn’t fathom.

“I uh um, ok. I wasn’t g-gonna go for her. I’d need a bit more liquid c-c-courage anyway.” Andy stuttered while flushing red and looking down at her hands. Her usual confidence was shaken by the intensity pouring off the silver haired beauty.

The woman just smirked.

 _Well well well, what do we have here?_ Miranda thought as she squinted her eyes and rubbed her index finger over her bottom lip. There was something intriguing about the girl--her long brown hair and dark doe-eyes in tandem with that 1,000 watt smile she gave the bartender suited her tall size 6 figure well. She couldn’t say much for the outfit, but that was easily remedied.

_A bit shaggy around the edges, but not without potential. I’d certainly never be seen in public with her as is, friend or lover. Then again, there are so few with whom I’d be seen in public. Plus it won’t matter what she wears once shes naked..._

Miranda’s ability to read microexpressions and the subtle changes in people's demeanor was unmatched by almost anyone. It was one of the reasons she made such a savvy businesswoman, and why her critical eye was the most sought after in the fashion world. She’d seen the young woman’s skin flush, pupils dilate, her breath catch, and heard that oh-so-endearing nervous stutter. Best yet, there was absolutely no indication that the girl recognized her at all. Such a rare thing. Miranda knew she was a formidable woman and didn’t mind using that to her advantage for both business and pleasure.

*****

 

Miranda’s attraction to women was not new. Most of her youth was spent pursuing relationships with women. Her longest relationship was with a woman, Laura, when she was in her early twenties. 6 years it lasted before Miranda chose her career over love. 6 years of bliss both in the bedroom and outside of it. On the lower rungs of the fashion world in the late 70s, being in a same sex relationship was common enough that she had the freedom to be who she was without much blowback. It was when she ascended the ladder that she had to make her choice. 6 years followed by a quick succession of wildly unsuccessful, but publicly acceptable relationships and marriages to men she barely tolerated. Sprinkled in between (and occasionally during, after she’d caught her husbands with their own dalliances), she had brief encounters with women, though those had waned once she had her twin girls and her position at became even more prominent. She’d spent a lot of money over the years paying several of them to keep quiet.

Her third divorce, though imminent, had not officially been filed. Stephen was unaware she’d had the papers drawn up two weeks ago. She hadn’t been able to collect hard evidence of his infidelity on her own and the PI she hired was unable to start until next week despite the fact that Stephen was “out of town on business.” This moment, the calm before the storm so to speak, was something Miranda had learned to appreciate. Her heart, mind, and body had already disconnected from her husband, and the media hadn’t caught wind of the scandal yet. When they did, her life would become a nightmare until some other celebrity gossip overshadowed hers. The only way out is through though.

 _Remember you’re just here to LOOK tonight, Mira. Don’t make things harder for yourself._ She thought as her eyes wandered up the brunette’s body for the third time, pausing briefly at her chest and then locking eyes with the doe-eyed diamond in the rough. It was electric. It felt right, which meant it was certainly wrong.

Her mind briefly flickered to her girls who were at their father’s for the weekend. She felt awful putting them through yet another divorce. She thought of the risk she was taking by being here tonight, but told herself once again she was only here to _look_ not touch. Besides, she could always claim she was here with Nigel. Straight women went out all the time to gayish-straight bars in Brooklyn with their gay best friends, and they’d covered for each other many times over the last few decades. And so, here she was on a Wednesday night far away from her townhouse where on a normal night her twin eleven year old girls and her cretin husband would be fast asleep.

*****

 

Andy’s mind went blank when the older woman slinked her gaze up her figure. It seemed she could actually _feel_ her eyes and her body reacted in kind. Hand shaking, she placed her drink on the bar to keep the ice from clinking around, not trusting it to steady anytime soon. She was totally transfixed.

Doug and Lily found her locked in this gaze when they walked up beside her. Doug cleared his throat to get Andy’s attention and she finally broke eye contact with the woman and turned to greet her friends.

“Hey are you gonna share these with us?” Doug quipped with a goofy, knowing grin.

“Yeah Andy, what gives?” Lily said as she snatched a shot off the bar.

Andy simply nodded once still recovering from the ferocity of the older woman’s stare. Doug nudged her to snap her back to reality.

“You there girl? Is everything ok? Who’ve you been making eyes at,” he cracked, chancing a glance down the bar, but only seeing the rush of young men that had just crowded around to get their fix.

“I’m fine guys. Just had a really long and weird day is all. I never thought being unemployed could take so much out of me.” she joked.

“But you’re not unemployed now!” Lily cheered as she clapped Andy on the back.

“To Andy’s new life and new job.” Doug shouted and they each lift up their shot, and tapped glasses before slamming them back and soothing the burn with limes and puckered faces.

Andy glanced back towards the silver haired women only to find her chair empty. _Shit, where’d she go?_ She grabbed her drink and followed Doug and Lily back to the hightop they’d occupied earlier, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of the mysterious woman.

The bar started to fill up and after several more rounds, some snacks, and a few laughs, the subject of Andy’s new job came up. “So Andy Auto Universe huh? What’s that gonna be like?” Doug inquired.

“Oh I forgot to tell you guys! The woman I interviewed with offered me a different job as the second assistant at a magazine called Runway,” Andy hesitantly mentioned, wondering if either of them had ever heard of it. “The pay is less, but I think there’s more potential with it. I’m starting tomorrow, thank god, because I could REALLY use the money ASAP. If it doesn’t work out the she told me I could move over to Auto Universe in a couple weeks.”

“OH. MY. GOD! No way! I’m soooo jealous.” shrieked Doug and fanned his face with both hands. “Do you know who you’ll be working for? Why didn’t you call me right away? You know how I’m obsessed with Runway and all things Miranda Priestly, Ice Queen extraordinaire! I’ve got issues spread out all over my place.”

“I guess that’s just one of the many things about you I overlook.” She joked. “But... yeah. The job is to be Miranda Priestly’s second assistant. I don’t even know who she is or really what she does.” Andy said.

“God you’re kidding, she’s only the most influential figure in fashion!” Lily exclaimed. “Do you live under a rock?? Wait, don’t answer that. I already know.”

Doug giggled and continued “I can’t believe this! You’ll have to tell me ALL about her. Jamal is going to MELT when I tell him later. You know she’s is notoriously demanding and awful to pretty much everyone. She’s on Page Six like four or five times a month.”

Andy grabbed his arm to stop him from going on further. “I don’t wanna know Doug. I’m trying to go into it with an open mind. I really need this to work out, just for a year. Apparently people who can stick it out for that long can walk into any job in publishing with her recommendation. If I go in thinking she’s awful, she will be awful. Does that make sense?”

“Sure, but on the flip side there is definitely something to the saying ‘know thyself, know thy enemy.’” Lily countered.

“Lemme try it out for the next few days and maybe I’ll consider some recon after I see what I’m up against.

The group ordered another round and chatted about Doug’s latest and serious boyfriend Jamal, who was by all counts perfect. They also discussed Lily’s upcoming art show at the gallery, which she was beyond excited about. It would be the first show since moving to NYC that she was allowed to curate alone.

When Andy looked at the time, it was already half 8.

“Ah listen guys, I should get going. I need to pick out my outfit for for tomorrow and get a good night’s sleep,” She sighed. “Doug can I send you some choices for approval? I was warned to look better than I usually do.”

“Sure, but only if you agree to one more round. On me of course.” Doug said, fluttering his eyes.

“Ok ok but let’s make it quick.” She relented.

Half an hour, a cocktail and a shot later, she was definitely ready to leave. She said her goodbyes and headed to the bathroom for a pit stop before her subway journey home.

She was drunker than she realized. _Shit. Keep it together Sachs,_ she thought. When she opened the stall door she stumbled out directly into her silver haired woman.

“Shit. Shit. Oh my god. I’m sorry are you ok?” Andy slurred, grabbing the woman’s arm to keep her from falling.

The icy glare directed at her outdid even the one from the uptight redhead at Elias-Clarke earlier in the day. Her heart froze. There was a flash of recognition in the older woman’s face before a look of total disinterest set in place.

“Let go of me. I suppose you’ll be able to make it to the sink without knocking me out?” Miranda derided as she brushed the brunette’s hand off her arm, which left a slight tingling sensation in its wake.

Andy could sense her blush rising again after feeling the woman so close. “I’m really sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t. Someone of your… size… really could have done some damage.” the older woman said, disdain oozing from her voice as she again perused Andy’s figure.

 _Well I guess that answers that. Whatever happened earlier wasn’t about attraction, more like disgust._ Andy thought dejectedly.

“You can buy me a drink to make up for it.” There was a matter-of-factness to her tone that slow-to-roll Andy didn’t pick up on immediately.

“Uh actually I was...I-I was just leaving. I’m starting a new job tomorrow and I need to be in tip top shape.”

“I suppose that’s why you went out drinking on a Wednesday then? Just playing it safe?” Miranda spat. “I didn’t say you had to stay, just buy me the drink.” Miranda was hoping the girl would stay.

“Oh uh yeah sure. To the bar then.” Andy was confused by the interaction, but already felt hooked by this woman.

The space started to look a little wonky to Andy as she made her way through the crowd. She kept it together long enough to get to the bar and she stayed close to the older woman out of necessity, not knowing if she could make it out the door, and not even sure she wanted to walk away yet. For her part, Miranda hadn’t said a word since the bathroom and hadn’t needed to. The bartender plopped her drink down almost immediately and with a knowing smile, she took Andy’s outstretched cash.

Miranda made short work of the drink and it seemed to even out the field a bit. She was glassy eyed, but still sharp minded. The younger woman’s goofy grin and doe-eyed stare told her all she needed to know about the girl. She was putty in her hands, or soon would be if she had her way.

“Let’s go.” Miranda demanded, no room for discussion. _So beautiful and clearly wants to please. What am I doing? So much for just looking._ She marched out the front door followed obediently by the brunette.

They got into a black town car that was waiting out front.

“Take us to the apartment.” Miranda directed.

“Yes ma’am.” The driver replied, knowing to keep his eyes straight ahead.

As Andy turned to buckle in, the woman slid into the middle seat but said nothing. When the full length of their thighs touched, the spark jolted her brain into action. She realized exactly the situation she was in--she’d gotten into the car with a virtual stranger and agreed to go god knows where with her for god knows what. Her mind raced through all the options and outcomes.

As if sensing her anxiety, the older woman slid her hand onto Andy’s knee, keeping her eyes trained out the window. Her fingers started making small, lazy circles up her thigh. Andy couldn’t think. She could hardly breathe. _This. Is. Happening._

“Um if I’m going to go somewhere with you, shouldn’t I at least know your name?” Andy panted once she got her thoughts together. 

“No, that’s not how this works. I don’t know you, you don’t know me. It’s perfect.”

“Wait what?”

“Oh do keep up. This—“ Miranda said, lifting her hand from Andy’s thigh to gesture between them, “is purely an impersonal transaction. We share a mutual physical attraction to one another, and based on what I can see, our worlds would never and will never collide beyond tonight.” Her hand wandered back to the girl’s thigh, and her fingertips slipped just under the hem of her short dress. The younger woman’s eyes closed and she breathed in deeply as her legs spread and her hips canted ever so slightly forward. Miranda took that as permission to explore further up her leg, stopping only when she reached soaked underwear. “Is that a problem?” She lightly grazed her fingertips over the girl’s heated center, whose eyes popped open and stomach clenched as she gasped with pleasure.

 _So it’s a one night thing._ _Do I want my first time with a woman to be a one night stand? Wait, would I even want a relationship right now anyway? God she is so beautiful._ Andy’s brain was on fire, racing into disjointed chaos at a million miles a second. Lots of questions but no space to think about the actual answers. 

“No. No problem." 

"Good."

Can you just tell me where we are going so I can figure out how to get home tomor--, um, when we’re done?”

"Greenpoint.” the older woman said just as the car rolled to a stop in front of an apartment building.

The driver opened the car door and the silver haired woman slipped out. Andy ungracefully followed, heart pounding as she scampered to catch up with the woman who was already halfway inside.

“Well here goes…” Andy whispered, entering the building.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The trip through the lobby was mostly a blur to Andy. Between nerves, alcohol, and acute arousal, her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. She did note the disconnect between the elegant, regal woman, and the mildly dingy interior. The older woman looked as out of place here as she did earlier at the bar.

As they waited for the lift, the older woman turned and said, “Under no circumstance can you be here in the morning. Walk, jog, call a cab, steal a bike—I don’t care, you _cannot_ be here overnight.”

“I get it. I’ll be sure to be gone before dawn.” The silver haired woman nodded once in approval.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, the older woman pounced, pushing Andy up against the back wall. After she slipped her right leg between the brunette’s, she leaned in close, pressing their bodies flush against one another. Subconsciously the younger woman started rocking her hips against her leg.

 _God I could come like this._ Andy clumsily thought.

With one hand, Miranda grabbed a fistful of the brunette’s hair, yanking her head to the side and exposing the smooth expanse of creamy skin. She inhaled deeply through her nose while tracing the tip of her tongue up the pulsing vein to her jawline, which she gave a quick nip. The younger woman moaned and her hands fell to the older woman’s hips.

“No, don’t.” Miranda snapped as she slapped away her hands.

“Don’t what?” She shook her head in confusion.

“Touch. It isn’t your turn.” She pulled back and caressed the side of the brunette’s face before cupping her chin and curling her index finger over the girl’s full lips and into her mouth. The younger woman’s tongue swirled around the tip, and they locked eyes in understanding--the silver haired woman was in control.

“You want me.” Miranda leaned in and husked into the shell of her ear. Andy nodded emphatically, chest heaving and heat radiating out from her center.

At that moment, the elevator jolted to a stop and the doors opened. The older woman stepped away from the girl and calmly walked out of the lift. Startled at the abrupt change of pace, Andy stumbled to follow _._

 

*****

 

The apartment was a relic from Miranda’s past, or rather Miriam Princhek’s past. After ending the relationship with Laura, she’d gotten rid of almost every trace of her and their shared history, including her own name, but not the apartment. Not the last place she was truly happy.

Over the years she’d upgraded and redecorated, but it was still a relatively small, one-bedroom, rent-stabilized apartment, a far cry from the opulence of her current residence. To avoid any scrutiny, she left the apartment’s lease in Miriam Princhek’s name. Any mail that came, all junk by this point, was picked up and thrown out by a neighbor, Mrs. Steinberg, who had lived in the building longer than Miranda had been a renter. All she required was a small monthly stipend for her trouble and discretion. It helped that Mrs. Steinberg seemed to have no clue who Miranda was or what she actually did. She dreaded running into her because she insisted on calling her Miriam. It was an unwanted reminder of who she used to be.

She didn’t often allow herself to dwell on what was or what could have been, but after nights where she lost herself with another anonymous woman, her mind couldn’t ignore the pull. If she moved in just the right way, or closed her eyes halfway, or got just drunk enough, she could pretend she was with Laura in their shared bed. That she was living the life she didn’t choose. She’d remember how happy they’d been. How easy it had all been. How Laura had looked at her full of love when they woke up late in each others’ arms on lazy Sunday mornings. How Laura looked when Miranda made love to her, when she fucked her, the way she laughed after coming. How Laura had truly taken care of her, likely the only person that ever would. How she had looked when Miranda ripped her heart out. How Laura had begged and pleaded and reasoned. How she had cleverly coordinated running into Laura for the last time, hand-in-hand with her new boyfriend, a man she would marry quickly and who would stand by her side until he too became a casualty of her career. She remembered the devastation. She enumerated the necessary steps she took to cultivate her dragon persona.

She was forever stuck in a loop of temporary pleasure reinforcing permanent pain. She would give into her desire for the female form, and when the afterglow of the evening faded, she’d plummet back into her self-made misery. Miranda was always at her worst on the days after she’d spent the night remembering.

 

*****

 

The older woman flipped on some lights and flung her bag and coat across a chair. The decor was much nicer than the common spaces they’d walked through. She slinked up to the brunette and used her two index fingers to peel off her coat, letting it drop to the floor in a heap. She then walked to a bar and pulled out two glasses, filling them with something Andy undoubtedly did not need.

_Back to this place once again, Mira? How many times can you do this to yourself?_

“Here.” Miranda shoved a drink under Andy’s nose, avoiding eye contact. “Your liquid courage.” A weight settled between them that Andy couldn’t quite figure out. The graceful, self-assured movements of the older woman earlier in the evening became stiff and almost robotic. The heated sensual energy that had radiated from her was replaced by a palpable frigid tension.

Suddenly insecure about whether or not the older woman actually wanted her there, Andy muttered, “Should I go?”

“Why on earth would you do that? Do you want to go?” The older woman’s eyes narrowed. _Have I wasted my time?_

“N-no. I just…” Andy stuttered and cast her eyes to the floor, thrown off guard by the scathing tone in the older woman’s voice. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, “I just don’t get the impression you want me here very much.”

The silver haired woman placed her drink down and turned to regard the young brunette. Something in her eyes softened, just for a second before the hardened mask settled back into place.

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you here.” Her tone was much more tender. Miranda placed a hand on the small of her back and stepped around her heading to the bedroom.

“Come along.”

 

*****

 

The bedroom, while much larger than Andy’s current one, was dwarfed by the luxurious king-sized bed. The remaining space was used efficiently, with several nice pieces of furniture. Large windows on two walls allowed enough streetlight in for them to forgo any other lighting. The linens were whites, greys, and creams, which gave the room a feeling of tranquility. The older woman stood in front of a vanity removing her jewelry. Andy walked up behind her, unsure what to do with herself.

They locked eyes in the mirrored reflection. Something, neither quite sure what, went off like a shot and they both sprung into action. Miranda spun around and smashed their lips together, tongues tangling and battling for control. Unwilling to pull away from each other, their hands roamed over curves and around taut muscles, tugging at zippers and buttons and finally giving into ripping at fabric. They stumbled to the bed and the silver haired woman pushed the brunette onto her back and pulled up her own skirt to straddle her thighs, giving the younger woman a nice view of her already soaked silk undies.

“Everything off. Now,” the silver haired woman panted as she ran her hands up the smooth skin of the brunette’s torso.

Andy lifted her hips so the older woman could slide her dress and underwear down off her body while she unhooked her front clasping bra and released her full breasts. “Perfect.” Miranda whispered, cupping the globes and giving the pert nipples a roll between her fingers. The doe-eyed woman moaned at the touch. When she moved to finish undressing the older woman, she was again met with resistance.

“Nah uh uh. Still not your turn. Scoot up the bed,” she said, as she hopped up and headed towards a dresser across the room. Without hesitation, the young woman did as she was told, not caring at all about the trail of wetness she left in her wake. _I never thought I’d be into being bossed around like this._

“Arms up.” The silver haired woman had returned with a white silk scarf, and as Andy raised her arms above her head, she skillfully wrapped her wrists together and secured them to the headboard. “This will help you keep your hands to yourself,” she smirked.

Slowly and seductively Miranda removed what remained of her clothing and dropped it at the foot of the bed. “Do you know how wet I am?” she drawled, sliding her hand between her own legs while her hooded eyes scanned up and down the brunette’s naked body. “Do you know how long I’ve needed this?”

 _Needed what exactly? Another one night stand? A woman? To feel wanted? To be in control? To feel alive again?_ Miranda growled to herself before pushing those thoughts aside.

Crawling onto the bed and moving up the younger woman’s body, she grazed her nipples lightly on her skin along the way. Her wetness dripped down onto the girl’s leg as she raked her nails across the flawless canvas, goosebumps trailing her touch. The brunette hissed and thrusted her hips upwards, aching for contact.

“I’m going to make you feel quite magnificent,” the older woman whispered, leaning down to nibble on the brunette’s earlobe, “and then maybe you can make me feel the same.” Andy whimpered into her nod as Miranda captured her bruised lips and worked her way down, with a series of kisses, bites, and licks, to her neck then chest.

“P-p-please…” the girl moaned, the tone frenzied.

  
“Please what?

“I need you.”

“Me?”

“TO FUCK ME!” Andy shouted.

“I'm working on it.” Miranda's mouth curled upwards before she devoured every bit of skin she could reach, her hands caressing the young woman’s soft curves. Trailing her lips down the girl’s stomach, she settled between her legs and spread them wide. The younger woman whimpered with desire. Miranda’s fingers opened her wet center and her tongue plunged inside, lapping up the sweet nectar that was seeping out. Exploring every crevice and fold except the hardened nub that was begging for release, she hummed in pleasure at the almost forgotten headiness of a woman’s taste. Her hand moved up the girl’s body and found a puckered nipple, pinching and rolling it between her fingers as she writhed beneath her.  
  
‘Please. God. Please,” the doe-eyed girl begged, “I need you inside right nowwwwww!” Her arms flexed against the silk scarf, desperate to aid in her pleasure. Not usually one to take orders, Miranda decided to relent this once as her own arousal was reaching an apex. She thrust a finger into the younger woman, whose hips matched her every move.

“More!” She demanded.

Miranda added a second digit then curled them upwards to hit the the brunette’s sweet spot while her tongue circled the her clit. The younger woman was so close to coming, her muscles tightened around the thrusting fingers and her body began shaking in pleasure. Encouraged by the uptick in moaning and groaning, the silver haired woman added a third finger, which pushed the girl over the precipice into full on bliss. The brunette rode out her orgasm mostly in silence, her every muscle straining and pulsing.

When the aftershocks abated, the older woman gave her a final kiss on her clit, and crawled up next to the recovering woman. She stopped herself from reaching out and cuddling her—this wasn’t that.

“Fuck, that was insane.” the younger woman laughed, still out of breath. “Think you could untie me now?”

Without a word and without sitting up, Miranda untied the now ruined scarf.

“That was incredible. I think we really have chemistry, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “I mean that’s never happened with any boyfriend I’ve had. Like who knew sex could be so much fun?” She giggled, turning to regard the older woman whose face betrayed no emotion.

Miranda couldn’t process what was happening. _What is this post-orgasm chatter? Where’d the quiet, timid girl from earlier go? I swear one orgasm and she’s morphed into Chatty Cathy._

 _“_...like when you did that thing with your tongue at the same time your hand came up and…”

“Shhhhh!” Miranda hissed. “I need you to stop talking.”

The younger woman looked like a kicked puppy for a few seconds before she recovered.

“Ok then, Is it my turn yet?” She smiled and reached out to touch the silver haired woman's lips, dragging an index finger down her chin, sliding it down her neck and onto her chest feeling suddenly confident. She didn’t wait for an answer before rolling the woman onto her back, and slowly lowering herself on top. The older woman’s hands reflexively wrapped around the girl as she lightly peppered kisses all around her face and neck.

“Nope it’s MY turn. Keep you hands here.” Andy said playfully as she grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed.

“I guess the tables have turned then.” Miranda smirked.

“Looks like it. If you’re good I’ll let you have another go later,” the brunette quipped.

“So confident all of a sudden. Can’t say I thought that would happen.”

“Well the ice has been broken so to speak. Quite well I might add.” She smiled with a wink. “Now hush and let me take care of you.”

 _Take care of me?_ Miranda was transported to her life before—before Runway, before men, before kids, before self loathing. Images of a love lost flashed in her mind. Images of someone who truly loved her for her and not for her position or money or status. 

“Oh my, you are quite wet.” The older woman was snapped back to the present by the fingers caressing her slick folds.

_Fake it ‘til you make it, huh Sachs? Just act like you know what’s what here._

Andy pulled her hand up to her mouth and cleaned off her soaked fingers. “Mmm you taste good. Want some?” She moved her hand back down to the wellspring then brought her fingers to the older woman’s mouth. “Open up.”

Miranda’s eyes widened as the brunette presented her with two fingers that she dutifully licked clean. “God that’s so incredibly hot. I’m ready for you again already.“ Leaving the fingertips in her mouth, the younger woman’s other hand slowly circled the opening of Miranda’s velvet entrance.

_I can’t believe I’m letting this girl top me._

The older woman was breathing hard and her chest flushed in anticipation as the young woman dipped a finger inside. “Is this what you want?” She groaned in response.

The brunette sat up between Miranda’s parted legs, fingers filling and stretching her clenching center. She leaned in, capturing a pebbled nipple with her lips, swirling her tongue around it before sucking as much of the globe as she could into her mouth.

She made her way downwards toward the junction of the other woman's thighs, removing her fingers and hovering just above her sex, enjoying the smell of arousal emanating off the older woman. With the flat of her tongue, she licked the full length of her slit. “FUUUCK! Don’t stop!” the silver haired woman pleaded. She arched her back and ran her hands through the girl’s hair, pushing her head back toward her quivering heat. With this show of approval, Andy cut loose any hesitation she held. The older woman’s movements set the pace as her tongue penetrated deep. Her hand made its way up to her core and she dragged her thumb across the bundle of nerves. With a scream, Miranda thrashed her head back and forth as she reached her peak. Andy slowed her rhythm as wave after wave crashed down over the woman.

Miranda hadn’t come like that in years. Her body felt boneless and her mind blank. Only when the brunette removed her fingers did she bother opening her eyes. Both women were covered in sweat—hair was matted to foreheads—and the girl wore a self satisfied grin that even Miranda couldn’t fault her for. The young woman got up and left the room without a word, returning with a large glass of water which she held out in offering.

“Here you go. You might need this.”

When she made no move to take it, the girl brought it to her mouth and took a few large gulps. “Ahhhh. Well, just what I needed.”  She placed the glass on the nightstand and flopped down on the bed.

“I can guess you won’t like this for some reason, but could you just indulge me for a few minutes?” The doe-eyed woman asked in a soft and sweet voice as she snuggled up to the older woman. Miranda was so shocked at the audacity that she was too paralyzed to react. The girl’s face rested in the crook of her neck and her arm was thrown possessively over her body, almost as if this was _something._

 _No this is all wrong. I need to ask her to leave. She cannot stay here. I cannot stay here. I need to get up. Get up Mira!_ Her mind was in overdrive, but she could not will herself to move. The brunette’s breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, and the older woman found the tickle of her exhales lulling her to sleep.

Andy entered the liminal space between wakefulness sleep, only vaguely aware of movement in the bed next to her. As she drifted deeper to sleep, she dreamt of the silver haired stranger caressing her face, fingers gently tracing her features and brushing through her hair. She imagined the woman kissing her, though the kisses were not of the bruising variety from earlier in their tryst. These were soft and tender, alternated with whispers of love and pleasure. Andy’s body reacted in kind, her sex flooding with the evidence. As their movements heated up, she realized she wasn’t dreaming. The older woman was above her, eyes glazed and dark. She lowered her center to Andy’s, grinding them together in a rhythmic dance. Hands grabbed at breasts and held hips as their wetness commingled.

“Look at me Laura.” Miranda demanded, her eyes seeking out her companion’s as she shifted her position to lay on top of the girl. _Who the hell is Laura?_ Andy thought, but was quickly pulled back to the moment by fingers deftly probing between her legs. “Let's come together darling.” The silver haired woman pleaded while guiding Andy’s hand towards her own wet folds. They clung desperately to each other as they thrust in tandem, each reveling in the other's arousal. Andy’s nails scratched at the older woman’s arm as they both rapidly moved towards release. The older woman pressed her palm to the girl's clit, “Come for me now my love.”

Andy didn't register the endearment as she dissolved into pleasure, blacking out from the intensity of the climax. The sight of her love writhing beneath her was enough to bring Miranda into her own shattering orgasm. “Laaaauuuuuraaaa!!!!” she screamed as she pulsed and throbbed. She collapsed on top of her, unseeing who was truly beneath her. They drifted off into sleep completely sated, limbs entangled.

Andy rolled over and bumped into something, no **someone** . _Shit where am I? Ugh god how much did I have to drink_ ? When her eyes adjusted and her mind cut through the fog, she saw the silver haired woman and smiled, remembering the night's activities. She caught a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand behind her lover—4:42. _“... under no circumstances are you to be here in the morning…”_ she recalled. _Damn I need to go._

Miranda awoke when the bed dipped beside her. _What the hell is she still doing here?_ She didn’t let on that she was awake in hopes that the girl would just leave. The hazy pieces of last night started to come back to her. Had she really called this girl Laura? They didn’t look anything alike. She could hear the young woman collecting her clothing.

“Shit!” Andy hissed, stubbing her toe on the bedpost. She couldn’t find her underwear. There was no way she was walking out of here without undies. _I'm gonna have to steal a pair._ After rummaging through the dresser as quietly as possible, the brunette found what she was looking for and began getting dressed. Knowing she would never see this woman again, and feeling a bit conflicted between sadness and relief, she decided to take a chance. She walked over to the older woman and looked down at her sleeping figure, making a point to memorize as much as she could about the stranger. She then bent down and brushed the forelock off her face and grazed her lips lightly on hers. “Thank you for a lovely evening. I hope you get your Laura again one day. Sleep well,” she whispered. With that, she left.

As she closed the apartment door, she turned around and almost plowed into a very small old lady.

“Ahh, a friend of Miriam’s? I haven’t met any friends of her in decades! How do you do?”

“Uh, yes. Miriam, right. I’m fine, thanks.” Andy said, avoiding eye contact while moving to step around her.

“Early start this morning I see. I’m an early riser myself. I’m so glad to see someone getting use of this apartment. I know Miriam comes by when she can, but it’s nice to know the space isn’t being wasted anymore. I hope she isn’t overcharging you. You know it’s rent controlled right?”

“...yes. Um, she’s very...fair. I’m sorry I really have to be going.”

“Ok well don’t be a stranger! I hope to see you around soon!”

_What the hell? So she just keeps this apartment? I wouldn’t have pegged her for a Miriam. Maybe a Helena or Jaqueline…_

Andy made her way outside, thankful when she saw a cab coming her way. Plenty of time to get home, recover, and get ready for her first day.

 

*****

 

When the door to the apartment closed, Miranda felt relief. Relief that she didn’t have to have an awkward morning after conversation, especially after fucking the girl as if she were someone else. Relief that she didn’t have to crush the girl rather than explain herself. She rolled over in bed and placed her hand on the recently vacated pillow, still warm from the doe-eyed woman. Something about the quiet, the lack of steady breath beside her was unsettling. She brought it to nose and sniffed, deciphering notes of vanilla and sandalwood. The corners of her mouth upturned slightly before she stopped herself and popped up out of bed. _None of that Mira. Get moving._

When Miranda left the apartment she also ran into Mrs. Steinberg who had her schnauzer leashed, likely returning from a morning walk.

“Miriam. I ran into your friend earlier. Hold on one minute, I have some things for you.”

She handed Miranda the leash and disappeared into her apartment, ignoring the icy glare thrown her way. She returned, opening the door and nudging a banker’s box over the threshold with her foot. “Sorry it’s a bit heavy. Now that you’ve got someone subletting I figured you won’t need me to check your mail anymore. I weeded out all the obvious junkmail but this stuff seemed important.” She took the leash back.

_Subletted? What a bizarre assumption._

Miranda looked down at the box then back up at Mrs. Steinberg. “I never said to _check_ my mail. I told you to get _rid_ of ALL my mail.”

“Yeah, well, like I said. Some of it seemed important. Personal. It's not like I actually read any of it.” Mrs. Steinberg turned to go back into her apartment as Miranda thumbed through the box, seeing mail that was clearly years old, as evidenced by the aging paper.

“And why now? Why give this to me today?”

Mrs. Steinberg paused facing her door, then slowly turned back around to look at her. “It just seemed like it was about time. Two decades is quite a long time to hold onto things for someone, wouldn't you agree?” With that, she went inside leaving Miranda standing alone with the banker’s box.

She grudgingly grabbed it and hauled it out of the building with her, dumping it into Roy’s arms as she slipped into her car.

“Take me to the townhouse Roy. Leave the box in the car until I can bring it into Runway. I’ll deal with it there.”

As the car passed through the still sleepy city, Miranda willed herself to concentrate on what she knew best—her magazine. She would not commit to memory every last feature of the younger woman, the smells and tastes unique to her. She would forget the ecstasy, forget the comfort, and forget the girl completely. She would move on, starting now.


End file.
